Random people I’d met before I met Danica—at assorted bars and parties all down the west coast and beyond.
Not interested.
Instead, I spent the evening in my new music nook with my Sennheiser HD 800’s on—my favorite headphones—listening to music.
Danica’s vortex playlist.
As I listened to it, twice through, repeating a few songs more than twice, it occurred to me that Summer was probably gonna love Danica Vola for her playlist alone.
And maybe I was gonna love her, too.
That struck me out of nowhere.
Love.
Danica.
Those two thoughts, for some reason, did not feel diametrically opposed… like the very idea of love and every other person I’d met these last seven months.
Fact was, other people, however attractive at first drunken glance, repelled me as soon as I’d talked to them for two minutes.
Or, as soon as I’d gotten off with them.
Couldn’t help it.
I didn’t want to fall in love.
I definitely didn’t want to get my heart smashed again.
This wasn’t some deep subconscious shit. Since Dylan and Amber broke my heart, I’d been very consciously and purposefully hooking up with people who offered me nothing but a party.
Danica, though?
She offered so much more.
She left mewantingmore.
Always.
More ofher.
I knew that was one of the many reasons I was so totally into her.
And I knew that put me in danger of falling for her, hard.
Maybe I just had to figure out what the hell I was gonna do about it if I did.
* * *
On Wednesday morning, I met Danica by the water in Coal Harbour. She was standing on the seawall waiting for me when I walked up, wearing a peach-colored sundress that was tied at the waist and barely hanging on, the flared skirt flapping in the breeze.
And a low, open V in front that showed off her tits in a way that told me she had no bra underneath.
She smiled at me and heat flared in my stomach. This girl hit me in all the right places. It wasn’t just about how she affected my dick.
She was affecting all the rest of me, too.
Had been for a while now.
